WELCOME

Welcome. Glad to see you here in our world of strange fascinations. What do we find so strangely fascinating? Well, a lot of things, really. To sum it up...we're predisposed to the paranormal, attracted to the anachronistic, responsive to retro, passionate about pop culture, captivated by kitsch, orgasmic over the odd. This is our warehouse. Stay as long as you like. Scrawl something on the wall (we'd really like that). Just don't open that door over there behind the life size cardboard cut-out of Agent Dale Cooper. Why? Never mind. Just don't. Unless, of course, you've always wanted to be the subject of a "weird news" headline.

Yeah, she's definitely creepy with that unsettling gaze trained on the camera courtesy of those big, googly eyes, but from the moment we saw her pallid mug in the musty pages of "Wisconsin Death Trip", Michael Lesy's 1972 cult classic compendium of death, disease, disaster and degradation in 1890s Black River, Wisconsin, we knew that this nameless vixen of yore would forever have a stranglehold on what passes for our heart. And, of course, she's perfect for this dark and shamelessly skewed blog. If we had the time and the focus, we'd have T-shirts made that said "I suck the life out of Cheeseheads, Go Packers!" But, luckily, we have adult ADD and will never do it. Including her eerie little face in our blog is the best we can do. We just hope that our readers appreciate our creepy little friend as much as we do. In fact, we feel a poll coming on...

Oh, yeah....we have a theme song. Two, in fact. And a whole lot of back-up possibilities. (Videos are down below.)

Our Theme Song

A BLOG WITHOUT MUSIC IS LIKE A DAY WITHOUT BEER. IT CAN BE DONE, BUT WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO? WE HOPE THAT YOU'LL ENJOY OUR RECOMMENDED SELECTIONS.

Does anyone really like fruitcake? I tend to doubt it. I daresay that, for the most part, anyone who actually professes to like fruitcake is playing some kind of twisted mind game, one even darker and more insidious than the unspecified games that Santa's other reindeer wouldn't allow poor Rudolph to join in. I mean, come on. Fruitcake? It's hard, sticky and made up of ingredients that aren't even really fruit. How it came to be a classic component of Christmas cuisine, I'll never know. And although I don't fear it as I do some other things...mannequins, for instance....I feel compelled to take a public stance against it at every opportunity. And what better opportunity than in this brief holiday post? In fact, fruitcake isn't the only annoying and/or disgusting element of Christmas. Let me acquaint you with a few more.

You've seen it countless times on "Christmas Story", and replicas of it in stores, and you may even have one of your own in your very own colored light infested, holiday-trimmed home. God knows I did, until my son took it with him to college. To be fair, I actually like the damned thing, mainly because I am...well...strangely fascinated by such icons of pop culture kitsch. But there's a thin line between celebration an iconic image and falling victim to overkill. Of late, I have even stumbled across knock off versions of this holiday lamp classic. That's just not right. Not to mention that it means that the only way to restore the inherent cool of the item within the context of one's decorating scheme is to alter its appearance in some subtle but creative manner. I, personally, would opt for sequins. I always opt for sequins. They rock.

Inflatable lawn decorations irk me anytime of year. Whether it's Halloween witches, Easter bunnies, or Christmas-themed nutcrackers, these saggy symbols of holiday commercialism strike me as the visual equivalent of fingernails raking across a chalkboard. Colored light-laden plastic reindeer and jolly Santas might be off the scale as far as the Christmas cheese-o-meter is concerned, but they at least have a history and durability that lends them some appeal. Inflatable snowmen and elves are just oversize balloons listing on borrowed time. Say no to inflatables next Christmas. Please. The sense of pride you save may be your own.

. It's not the movie itself. I'm a huge fan of both Jimmy Stewart and Frank Capra, and "It's A Wonderful Life" is one of their best and most enduring cinematic efforts. Any movie that still draws in viewers over sixty years after it was first released deserves to be canonized.....if movies could be canonized, that is. So, no, it's not the movie that irks me. It's that damned scene where Jimmy Stewart goes to see Lionel Barrymore (aka the nefarious, Grinch-like Mr. Potter) and is almost, but not quite persuaded to sign away his soul on the dotted line in exchange for a better job and a higher income. What's my gripe? It's that every time I watch that scene, I find myself hoping that, this time, Stewart will give in, take the money, and buy his huge family a house with stairs that aren't falling apart and refurbished windows that don't let the heat escape. I mean, it's a huge family. Self-pride and a commitment to a higher purpose are all well and good, but are they going to pay for Juju's college tuition or make it possible for the daughter who plays the piano to take lessons so that she can learn to play more than one annoying song? No, they're not. And although it wouldn't be much of a movie if Stewart caved and gave into the fat man's cajoling, it would make me feel better about the future of the Bailey clan. Sorry. Sue me. Just not on Christmas.

Well, that's it from the tree streets. If you celebrate Christmas, have a good one. And if you don't, well, you'll just have to find something else to complain about. See you on the other side. xoxoxoxxoxooxxoxxoxxooxox

It has now been almost six months since I last saw your gorgeous little face. It was in late August that you and your mother went back to Denmark...to Copenhagen....the city where you were born and in which you lived until you were four. When you left the US last August, you were a big girl of six.

It was your mother's decision to go away, one based on a lack of work, ensuing financial difficulties, and personal problems that we won't mention here. The bottom line, my sweet girl, is that I have been bereft of your presence for much too long, and with Christmas (or Noel Yule, as you Danes call it) only days away, my heart aches for you to the point of breaking. What can I do except tell you that I miss you? And what better present can I give you than to share with you some of the most important things I have learned since you went away? Perhaps, in doing so, my lessons will serve you in the future as well. Here goes. I only hope that you don't get bored and fall asleep.

1.) FAMILY

Families are about the most important thing that a person can have. Under perfect conditions, a family is something that you are born into and the people in it remain in it, never leaving, never changing in negative ways, and are always supportive, loving, and focused on doing what's best for little kids like you. But you know by now that families, like people, aren't perfect, and that even something as wonderful as love can't always make things work the way we want them to. But one thing I can tell you is that when the members of a family love a child as much as the members of your family love you, there is nothing that is not possible. Bad times can be forgotten as good times take over, sad memories can be overcome by good ones, and all of the tears that have been shed over the course of weeks, months or years can be replaced by smiles and laughter and conversations about happy things.
But, of course, it always easy to accomplish those changes. In our family, it sometimes seems that the darkness is stronger than the light, and some of us, myself included, struggle daily with that darkness. The good news is that we haven't given up. There's an old saying, "nothing good comes without some kind of fight", and while that isn't always true, it seems to be true in this case. Families, whether they are the ones you are born into or ones made up of special people to whom you feel very close, are important enough to fight for if that's what it takes. Never give up on your family, Liva. But no matter what, I can promise you that I will never stop loving you.

2. FRIENDS

This world would be a pretty bleak place if we didn't have friends. You had some good friends here in the US, and I know that you have some good friends in Copenhagen now. One thing I have learned since you left, though, is that it's important to choose your friends carefully. Since you left, some of the people I thought were my friends turned out to be not very good people at all. One of them even stole my precious kitten! That makes me very sad, still, but I am trying my best to look at that horrible incident as a lesson. It's hard to say exactly what it is that you should watch out for when you are trying to make new friends, but I think I can give you a fairly good assessment of what it means to be a real friend. The way I see it, a real friend is someone who doesn't lie to you, doesn't hurt your feelings unnecessarily, doesn't judge you, and doesn't put their own wants over yours when the going gets rough. In fact, when the going gets rough, a real friend is there without being asked, does whatever they can to help you even if it isn't convenient for them, and encourages you to do what's best for you, not what they want you to do. Most of all, Liva, a real friend is someone who is still your friend even when you can't spend much time with them or it is difficult to stay in touch. Like a diamond, a real friend is forever. I have a few real friends. I hope that you always will as well.

3. LOVE

This is, perhaps, the most important thing that I have learned since you've been gone. Do you remember that game we used to play at bedtime...the "Would you rather?" game? You used to ask me if I would rather be a princess or date a rock star and things like that. When I asked you those same kinds of questions, you always chose the answer that included a boyfriend. You so wanted to have a boyfriend! Well, I have met someone who is very nice, but even though he's a wonderful person, I have learned that the best way to have love in your life is to make sure that you keep some for yourself. I made a mistake before. I gave all my love away, and when that person stopped loving me, I felt like nothing. That's not a good way to feel about yourself. I had to learn to love myself all over again. I am still learning to do it. That's why I hope that you will go forward in life already loving yourself and feeling good about who you are without trying to fit someone else's idea of who and how you should be. You are perfect the way you are, Liva. You are unique and special, and even if you weren't already the most beautiful little girl in the world, your smile would make people think that you were. Your smile is more beautiful than any Christmas tree lights, or even the stars, because it comes from a heart as pure and loving and kind as any heart could possibly be. Whatever course your life takes, please remember that the world is a better place because you are in it, and if you weren't, there would be one less reason for anyone who knows you to smile. You are the perfect flower that grows in the wilderness, the brilliantly colored bird that sings from the branches of an old, twisted tree. You are the loveliest chord on the piano, the most melodic note of a song, the warm ray of sunshine that kisses the winter snow and melts it so that spring can return.

Let us begin with a disclaimer. We are not Catholic. We have attended Mass for years, possess a small, but highly prized collection of Catholic saints miniatures and other religious icons, and eschew meat on Good Fridays (although we absolutely, unequivacably cannot and will not eat fish, not even for Jesus). But we've never actually taken the eucemenical plunge, mostly because we don't really see the need for it when we already believe what we believe and, if what we believe is correct, are pretty sure that God knows that we believe it, too. But that being said, we have to admit that, despite our lack of official status as a Catholic, we have always been strangely fascinated by nuns. Yes, that's right. Nuns. But not like the one below, who, while no doubt a fine person and nun in her day, pretty much seems to embody the nun "ideal."

But while we are fascinated by Sister ability to be a nun at all in a world increasingly at odds with all of the things that the vocation represents, we are even more fascinated by those nuns who, even within their specialized little world, are considered oddities. What do we mean? Well, take a gander at the bullet-totin' brides of Christ below.

The picture, which we found on the Intelligent Genealogy websiite, isn't captioned. But our guess is that these sisters are members of an archery team. "Rifles For Redemprion" or some such thing. No doubt charity is involved in some way And from the smiles on their faces, it's clear that the Beatles weren't far off the mark when they sang, "Happiness is a warn gun." But it's not always smiles...

Not quite sure where these sisters are showing no mercy, but you probably wouldn't want to be counting your rosary beads there. But wait! There's more!

The last image is, of course, from our new all time favorite movie, Nude Nuns with Big Guns, the 2010 nunsploitation epic that introduced the world to Sister Sarah (played by Asun Ortega), who, after being raped, beaten, brainwashed by corrupt members of the clergy, recieves what she believes is a message from God telling her to mow down the grimy bastards responsible for her...uh...duress. She isn't always naked, but she does pack a couple of big pistols, which she uses to carry out the Lord's work, a task made even harder when the clergy hires a morotcycle gang to kill her. The end result is a holy mess of twist and turns in. this B-movie cult classic to be, which, I confess, I have watched at least as many times as I've attended Mass in the last year. (Seven). For fans of nunspolitation films, it's probably the most exciting addition to the genre in years. And it makes a wonderful Christmas gift for the person who already has all the glow in the dark saints.

Well, there you have it. Our little post with the big potential to inflame our readers, but, really, why should it? The Christian God of the Old Testament was all about vengeance and smiting stuff, so why shouldn't the brides of Christ shoulder an uzi? Nunsploitation films may raise a few eyebrows here and there, but my only issue is with the ones that portray nuns as sex-starved sisters of mercy coinstantly on the look out for a fallen angel to help them find heaven. Bottom line, for me, is that nuns and sex is absolutely, unequivocably taboo. But nuns with guns? That's entertainment.